


Hypocrite

by Yangs Sunglasses (Nilenium)



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16178600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nilenium/pseuds/Yangs%20Sunglasses
Summary: "Are you drunk?"An unexpected encounter.





	Hypocrite

The Iserlohn looked like a ghost town during the nighttime or rather what could be considered the night on the massive space station floating in the middle of the cosmic void with no stars in the vicinity. Yang passed on his way only a few sleepy people on the graveyard shift who gave him respectful salutes. He answered them with short nods, not keen to linger. He'd stayed late in the office, working on strategies and he wanted nothing more than some sleep, so he was understandably irritated that he needed to go back there.

The moment he came in he realized something was wrong. Firstly, what tipped him off was that the door should have been locked for the night. Secondly, the darkness inside didn't feel empty. There was a silent presence wrought in the shadow.

“Is someone here?” Yang asked cautiously.

When no answer came, he switched on the light. He didn't see anyone, however the item he was looking for was conspicuously missing from where he'd left it on the desk. Yang came closer to investigate. He heard a shuffle behind the desk and checked there.

“Lieutenant Greenhill?” he gasped, flabbergasted to find his aide sitting on the floor and obviously hiding. “What are you still doing here?”

“Nothing,” she replied, voice muffled behind her hand. “Go away... please.”

Yang rounded the desk. The lieutenant curled up in her seat and angled her face away from him.

“Is everything okay?” he ventured, even more perplexed by her unusual behaviour.

“Fine, everything's fine!” she insisted. “I... I dropped something, but I found it. I should get going now.” She shot up to her feet and started for the exit, but in her rush she tripped and stumbled right into Yang. He managed to catch her, arms automatically going around her shoulders and holding her against him.

“Ah, I'm sorry, sir!”

Her gasp of surprise tickled his neck and with it he detected a specific, but familiar pungent smell. Yang's eyebrow shot up.

“Lieutenant... Are you drunk?”

Lieutenant Greenhill didn't look at him, but her cheeks flushed prettily. “Ah... I...” She floundered, before regaining her function of speech. She stepped back, putting distance between them. “I'm off duty, so what does it matter?” she deflected.

“But why were you drinking in my office?” A realization struck him. “And _what_ were you drinking?”

Yang looked around for his bottle of brandy, the only reason he came back in the first place. He'd forgotten to take it home. Lately he had a hard time going to sleep without a glass or two... or more... as much as it took to have some real rest, undisturbed by nightmares. He spotted a shine of glass under the desk and yanked the bottle out.

“I can't believe this...” he said in dismay. What was once a healthy half of a bottle was depleted into maybe a two glasses maximum. He looked at the lieutenant again, noting that the rouge on her face had to be the result of her drinking, not embarrassment like he'd assumed.

“I'm sorry, sir, I'll buy you another,” she blurted out.

“What?” he asked, distracted.

“Another bottle. I know I shouldn't have drunk so much. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. That was irresponsible and foolish of me and I'm incredibly sorry-”

“Frederica,” he interrupted firmly. He rarely used her first name, as it seemed inappropriate between an admiral and his subordinate, but in this informal situation he felt he was at a liberty to do so. “I don't care about the booze. I care about-” he scratched the back of his head, thinking better of finishing this sentence, lest he reveal something he shouldn't.

“About?” she prompted quietly, hanging onto his every word.

“-why you're not acting like yourself,” he awkwardly finished.

She was still angling her head away, so he delicately gripped her chin and turned her face to him. Immediately, her red-rimmed eyes stood out to him. Yang's frown deepened as he observed the dried tear tracks on her face.

He was well aware his aide had plenty of reasons to cry, but so far Frederica had held herself up admirably, working with as much efficiency as before. You'd think she'd moved on past all the sorrow and grief, but in reality she was quietly suffering all this time. And he'd willfully remained blind to it because he desperately wanted to keep a professional distance between them. Now he saw how pointless and harmful it was.

“What's wrong? You can tell me,” he coaxed in a softer tone. Frederica hesitated.

“I thought that... drinking might help me. To stop all this thinking. I was... remembering too much,” she revealed haltingly.

Yang nodded in understanding. He knew something about that. However, for him time dulled the memories while for Frederica, they stayed just as sharp and painful as in the beginning. That was the curse of her prized ability – the eidetic memory.

“And? Did it help any?” Yang asked.

Frederica shook her head. “No, not at all.”

“I see...” He glanced at the bottle. “And that was supposed to be a deluxe liquor...” he said with disappointment, prompting a little chuckle from her.

Not for the first time he thought that her smile was beautiful. He raised his hand unconsciously, wanting to touch her cheek, but held back at the last moment. Instead, he quickly changed the direction and scratched his neck. “Well, that looks better on you. Tears don't suit you. As well as drinking,” he remarked. “One of me is enough in this office,” he added self-deprecatingly.

“Admiral,” she breathed out with wide eyes. That he even admitted to his own drinking problem was unexpected.

“Think about it. If we both drank, Iserlohn would be doomed and Alliance with it. So I absolutely need you sober, lieutenant. Can you do that for me?” Yang asked with all seriousness, looking straight into her amber eyes, as if peering into her soul.

Stunned, Frederica nodded in agreement. “Ye-yes, of course, sir.”

“Good.” He sounded satisfied with that and stepped back.

Her eyelids were getting heavy and she stifled a yawn. Yang took her arm gently. “You can't fall asleep here. I'll escort you to your quarters.” He led her outside and closed up the office. If the few people awake at this hour saw the admiral hauling his swaying aide through the corridors, no one questioned it. Not that Yang particularly cared what they thought.

When they reached Frederica's quarters, Yang watched her fumbling with the keys to open the door. Frederica entered the doorway, then turned to him.

“Thanks for walking me here, sir,” she said politely.

“It was no problem,” he replied with a shrug. “And don't worry, you get a free day tomorrow.”

“I can work tomorrow,” Frederica objected, to the contrary of her tired appearance. Heavy bags were already forming under her eyes.

“You won't. It's an order.” Yang countered. She'd thank him later for this. He was fully predicting that she'd wake up with a tremendous hangover. “Now go to sleep, lieutenant.”

His firm insistence must have discouraged her from more objections.

“Alright. Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight, Frederica.”

She closed the door, but Yang stood there for a while, just thinking. His fingers found the bottleneck of the brandy bottle sticking out of his jacket's pocket. Touching the smooth and cold glass surface reassured him as if it was his good luck talisman before a wave of a self-reproach hit him.

 _What a hypocrite_ , Yang thought about himself and walked off in the direction of his apartment. Thankfully, it wasn't very far.

He was going to put that bottle in the cabinet and do his best to forget it even existed. He'd have to make do without his liquid sleeping aid for one night if Frederica wasn't coming in the next day.

One night of little sleep in exchange for a day of Frederica's rest didn't look like such a bad deal to him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is a fill for a tumblr prompt. Feedback would be very appreciated, I'm still working on the character voices. Visit me on tumblr (yangssunglasses.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about LOGH or have any prompts :)


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